(****)
“May the four colors of the earth bless me. I will see you in my dreams.”
Writer/director Akinola Davies has a way with words that’s poetic. He has a great feel for sensitive and compelling storytelling, which pervades all that’s delicately drawn in this father/son allegory.
Two young brothers, Remi (Chibuike Marvelous Egbo) the outspoken one and Aki (Godwin Chiemerie Egbo) the introvert, live in a rural town. They love each other even when they’re bickering. The day they reunite with their estranged dad Folarin (Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù, Gangs of London), there is a monumental shift in the father/son relationship. That shift deepens when he takes them to Lagos in 1993 and they experience the perils of a very volatile election, military rule and big city dangers. It’s a humanizing experience for all. Folarin: “My own father had many wives. Before he died he told me the only job a man has is to take care of his family.”
And yet, dad has a secret life. At a restaurant he’s overly familiar with a waitress—a detail the boys may not notice, but the audience certainly does. The moment isn’t played for scandal. It lingers in glances and body language. This isn’t a cue for the audience to judge him, but to see him fully—flawed, contradictory, human. It’s in these quiet contradictions that the writing and direction find their most revealing nuance.
Davies weaves this fable with the help of his cowriter and brother Wale Davies. They establish the bond between brothers in ways that are universal, then they pair them with an absentee, philandering and yet loving dad. That’s when their script finds its emotional essence and establishes its purpose. Folarin says all the things a dad who hasn’t done his job thoroughly would say if he was honest about his feelings. And Remi asks him all the questions a son would ask a father who wasn’t there. As forgiveness takes center stage, the narrative captures your heart and doesn’t let go. Scenes of the three on a beach are reminiscent of sequences from the Oscar winning film Moonlight. They’re as beguiling, intimate and evocative.
Gorgeously filmed by cinematographer Jermain Canute Edwards in saturated colors with impeccable attention to composition. Compelling from the quiet moments to scary ones when soldiers dressed in olive green uniforms patrol on a truck and sneer.
The entire cast is appropriately clothed by costume designer P.C. Williams in western and African garb. Footage is edited by Omar Guzmán with precision. The music by C.J. Mirra and Duval Timothy is wondrous.
It’s a thoughtful and profound meditation on fatherhood, political strife and the frailty of life—touching beyond words.
